


A Forest Tale

by Maitimiel



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maitimiel/pseuds/Maitimiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gereth runs to the forest to save Dior's sons, but she ends up finding somebody else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Forest Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Лесная история](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10435281) by [venwe (holy_milk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy_milk/pseuds/venwe)



At first, everything was green. Her head hurt and her mind was hazy, and barely had she opened her eyes, she closed them again. But what she saw was overwhelmingly green, and it felt lighter that it ought to have been. She tried to remember where she was, but the memory didn’t come to her mind just then.

Then she tried to move and realized her head was not the only part of her that ached. Once she noticed the pain in her arm, she couldn’t really get her mind out of it. She stretched her legs carefully and found that one of her knees was injured, though not badly. Perhaps she could stand if she used her uninjured arm to prop against something.

Like a tree. She was in the woods, she remembered. In Doriath. That was the reason everything was so green. It hadn’t been green before. When they entered the forest, it was pitch black, too dark to see color. It was as if a dark mist had risen from the ground with the sole purpose of delaying their armies. Getting them lost.

 _And perhaps it was just what it was_ , Gereth though, pulling her arm carefully to her lap. Many times that night she had felt the forest was as active a force as any enemy soldier. She had tripped on the serpenting roots of the trees, gotten lost in the labyrinths carved in stone and living wood. Dark things seemed to crawl over her, and in the end, she had little idea of what was going on at all in the battle. It didn’t seem as if the sun would ever rise again.

She didn’t know how it had ended. Who had won? Had any side won? Was it possible to cause so much destruction and still call it a victory?

Gereth figured she should find her sword. It could still be dangerous to be alone out there, wherever she was. Her sword arm was the one injured, but she could still wield it with her left, it need be.

She opened her eyes blearily, her vision still very blurred. She felt blindly around herself for her weapon, but before she could find anything, a clear voice cut through the air and she stilled, struggling to find it’s source.

“Do not move.”

It wasn’t like Gereth could move much at this point, but she didn’t argue. Focusing with difficulty, she saw a slender woman a few meters from her. With one hand she held a small child at her hip, and the child was strangely quiet.

With her other hand, she held Gereth’s sword.

It was the child, though, that made her alert. Suddenly she remembered why she was there, so far away from the actual fight. She had been looking for the children, Dior’s children. They were in danger. At some point in the melee, someone had told her the kids were lost in the woods. _I’ve got to find them_ , she had thought, and almost without stopping, she went further into the woods, alone.

“Do you have the children?” She asked weakly, trying to lift her head to take a better look at the woman and the child, but the woman stepped away and raised the sword.

“I said do not move!” She spoke, more frightened than threatening. “Don’t think I won’t kill you to protect her if I have to!”

“You don’t need to protect her.” Gereth tried to sound reassuring, though her voice was very rough. “Not from me. I’m here to help.”

“Right. Like your people haven’t ‘helped’ us enough for the past three days.” The hand that held the sword was shaking lightly, from fear or anger Gereth couldn’t tell.

“I cannot answer for all of my people. But I didn’t come here to murder children. I’m here to help. I’m looking for the twins. I have no ill intention towards them, or you for that matter.”

The woman was silent for a long time, never letting go of the little girl. The child didn’t make a single sound, but she too looked intently at Gereth, as if she knew exactly who she was and what she had come there to do. Gereth wondered who they were. Were they part of Dior’s family? Were they the only survivors?

After what seemed an eternity, the other elf lowered Gereth’s sword and asked, her voice carrying all the emotion of the world in her words:

“How do I know I can trust you?”

 

* * *

 

The next time she woke, Gereth found herself in a much more comfortable position. She had finally found sleep, after many hours of answering questions and asking her own, of trying to justify the unjustifiable and begging for any news at all of what had happened in the battle. At first, Evranin, for this was the woman's name, was reluctant to answer any of Gereth’s questions. “You say you wanna help me protect the innocent, what does it matter what happened to the murderers you’ve left behind?” But those men and women had been her fellow soldiers, her friends, even her family after some point. They didn’t know what it would come to, she argued, they had had no choice. “We swore to follow our Lords, and they swore to recover their father’s jewels. What could we do?”

Evranin could think of a number of things Gereth’s people could have done. She listed them, colorfully, before remembering the child in her arms. She cared not for oaths, or for loyalty, for that matter, if it was used as an excuse to commit murder. “You cannot justify what happened here!” she had said, and Gereth had looked away.

But after some time, she had relented. “Your Lords have won. But not all of them survived.” Which ones have died, she did not know. She had run to save the girl, and she was alone. Evranin had not known of the fate of the twins. She cried when Gereth told her of the reason she had been stumbling in the woods. The child cried too, hiding her face in her guardian’s side. “We can still find them!” She had said, reaching out her left hand, but Evranin shook her head.

The sun had just barely risen, and the forest was terribly quiet in the soft light. Gereth’s arm was wrapped up in fabric and folded in a much more natural position than the one she had fallen asleep in. She tried to get to a sitting position but found she couldn’t support herself with her left arm alone. Frustrated, she made to lie down again, but small, strong arms caught her and Evranin pulled her softly to a side to rest her against the nearest tree.

“Thanks,” she muttered, finally able to look properly around herself now she was above ground level. They were at a small clearing, though very little sunlight came through the tall trees covered in moss. Still, it wasn’t dark. Light seemed to emanate from the very air, golden and warm. The little girl was sitting on the opposite side of the clearing, eyes wide and bright as she studied Gereth attentively. Gereth had asked Evranin about her, the night before, and Evranin hesitated before saying the girl was her daughter, Lassiel. Gereth knew at once she was lying, but Evranin had looked challenging at her, and she let it be.

She examined her arm carefully, touching the soft fabric that wrapped it. She remembered having her elbow twisted when a sinda, tall and terrible, stroke her with strength enough to send her to the ground. Someone else had killed him before she managed to pick her sword and get up. It didn’t appear to be broken, though. She couldn’t be sure, but it hurt less than the day before.

“Thanks for wrapping my elbow, too,” she said sincerely. Gereth was still kneeling beside her, her proximity comforting and warm. Perhaps because she had left the sword by Lassiel. “You didn’t have to cut you dress, though. Should have used my cloak.” She had turned it now, after all, Gereth thought bitterly.

“You were sleeping on it,” Evranin said, touching her elbow without asking, her fingers swift and sure as they pressed lightly to avail the improvement, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I can use it to make a sling now, if you want.” She was much calmer than she had been before, but there were dark circles around her eyes indicating she hadn’t slept at all overnight.

“Why can’t we go look for Dior’s sons?” Gereth asked with a low voice to try and keep Lassiel from hearing, but the girl seemed to know exactly what they were talking about. Evranin glanced at her before replying almost into her ear.

“The part of the forest you indicated. Are you certain there is where they were taken?” Gereth nodded. She had seen Celegorn’s men coming from that direction. They had told her themselves about it all. Evranin closed her eyes tiredly. “Even the power of Melian could not entirely keep the darkness out. If they went there, there is no hope of finding them.”

“Did you know them?” Somehow that hadn’t occurred to her before - that Evranin might be a noble woman, or at least to know noble people. That she could have been close to the people Gereth had come to kill.

 _No, not to kill. To parlay with. To negotiate_. She looked at the little girl and tried to tell herself they hadn’t come here to kill. That if any of her fellow soldiers had come across Evranin and Lassiel, they would have spared them. _And yet_. The men she had called brothers had taken the twins to the forest without a second thought.

“I knew them,” Evranin said, and stepped aside to pick Lassiel up, “We all did. But there is nothing to do now.”

“I can look for them,” Gereth started to say, but Evranin interrupted:

“No, you can’t! Don’t you think I would go there if there was any possibility of Eluréd and Elurin to be alive? Don’t you think I would do anything to save them? Do you think I don’t want to go?”

“Of course you would, I’m not saying that, it’s just...”

“Do you think you know the forest better than I do? Cause I'm not the one who got lost in here for days!” Evranin hissed at her, any attempt to keep the girl from hearing them completely fruitless.

“All I’m saying,” Gereth said half frustrated, half desperate, “Is that I could look while you watch over Lassiel. This way we are more likely to find them.”

Evranin walked away from her to the other side of the clearing. “Grow up. You can’t undo every horrible thing in the world with sheer force of will. Some horrible things stay horrible.”

Gereth couldn’t answer that. All she could do was to try and keep the disappointment away from her face, from her heart. This is not your loss, she said to herself. You have no right to be pained by it. You can’t afford it.

 

* * *

 

  
They started to move a few days after Evranin had come across Gereth fallen on the clearing. Gereth’s knee still ached a little, but she made herself walk as much as she could. Sometimes Evranin came silently to her side and supported part of her weight. Gereth always thanked her with a mumble, but she refused the help most of the time. Evranin had to carry Lassiel, after all, as the child could not walk long distances by herself. Lassiel was probably the quietest child Gereth had ever seen. She never spoke where Gereth could hear her, and even when she was out of sight, all Gereth could hear from her were whispers destined to Evranin’s ears only. She didn’t cry. She didn’t sing. She didn’t play when they were taking a break, and she never stopped watching attentively even when Gereth was asleep. Gereth often wondered what had she seen before Evranin had taken her away from Menegroth, and shame washed over her then, more intense than when Evranin accused her, more intense than any guilt she had ever felt.

She tried to compensate for it in any way she could. At first, she could not use a bow, but as soon as she was able, she took responsibility for hunting and gathering food for them. She would be the first to walk into any potentially dangerous situation, and she kept guard at night for as long as she could. Evranin didn’t trust her, at first. She would lie down, hold Lassiel close and look away, but Gereth could almost feel her alertness. They would talk, then, as Lassiel buried herself into Evranin’s chest. It became frequent, comfortable, and the first time Evranin did not reply Gereth immediately, it took her a few seconds to realize she had fallen asleep.

But Evranin wouldn’t tell Gereth where they were going, or even if they were going somewhere. She seemed to know the way, and to guide herself by the stars, but every tree seemed the same to the noldo. Gereth had grown around mountains and chosen similar landscapes to live in all of her life. She felt lost and somewhat oppressed amidst the tall trees. She could never see far ahead, and she feared often that she would get lost from Evranin when hunting, or that the other woman would simply walk away from her someday. The idea disturbed her more than she cared to admit. It wasn’t as if Evranin had no reasons to leave her behind, but she didn’t. Whenever Gereth came back, there Evranin was, sometimes brushing Lassiel’s hair, sometimes singing soft tunes to make her sleep. Gereth was grateful every time she saw them.

“Who did you serve?” Evranin asked once after they had eaten and Lassiel’s eyes were glazed over in slumber. She and Gereth were sitting side by side in front of their small fire, legs stretched in front of them for warmth. Gereth looked at her, but there was nothing but curiosity in her eyes.

“My parents both fought under lord Caranthir. My mother came with him from the west. My father was younger.” She could still hear her mom’s voice as she told their story. Her father’s family had opposed the wedding at first, on the basis of their age difference. So I too was one of his warriors, at first.”

“But not always?” Evranin pulled her cloak closer around her shoulders and moved imperceptibly closer to Gereth.

“No. A few years ago...” She took a deep breath, feeling her heart ache, after all this time. “A few years ago, there was an ambush, an orc ambush. After that, I asked Lord Caranthir if I could go somewhere else. He sent me to Lord Maglor.”

“Is that common? Changing allegiances, I mean.” Evranin had given Gereth her sword back after the later had sworn she no longer owned anyone else her loyalty.

“Not much, but mostly because people don’t usually wish too. I wanted to go somewhere else, because of the memories. He was very understanding.” Indeed, when she had explained her reasons for leaving, Caranthir had seemed almost pained for her. “And it wasn’t as if it was a radical change, I mean, they both were under the rule of Lord Maedhros, so in the end, I would have ended up in the same place.”

“I thought your people had many kings. Did they all follow Maedhros?”

“A few of our Lords called themselves kings. But they weren’t, really, except in their own lands. They all followed the High King of the Noldor, at first, but now the High King is hiding in a secret city and rules over no one.” She had caught a glimpse of Turgon only, before he went back to the safety of Gondolin. “Lord Maedhros still recognizes the high king, or so he claims, but it makes little difference. He rules over his brothers. Or at least he tries.”

Evranin thought about this for a while, closing her eyes and leaning towards the fire. When she spoke again, her voice seemed to come from far away.

“Within my people, brothers don’t rule over one another. Parents, I understand, but aren’t brother’s equals?”

“In times of peace maybe it wouldn’t matter. But we needed to organize in order to fight the enemy, and the Lord’s father has died a long time ago.”

“Or your kin,” Evranin pointed out quietly, “So it was Maedhros who made the decision of coming here?”

“I don’t know. Is not like his brothers don’t have a say when it comes to war. Maybe it was a joint decision.” Gereth knew Lord Maglor hadn’t wanted to come - that was spoken about openly enough. She also knew that the Lords Celegorn and Curufin were eager to fight. The others were as much of a mystery to her as they were for Evranin.

Evranin didn’t reply. She was running her fingers through Lassiel’s dark hair, absently. The day before, Evranin had left to seek for medicinal herbs, leaving Gereth alone with Lassiel for the first time. Gereth looked at the sleeping child’s peaceful feature, and Evranin’s vaguely preoccupied face, and glanced at the fire. She would need to get more logs soon if they wanted it to burn for the entirety of the night, but right then she was warm and comfortable and didn’t really wanted to move yet. Evranin’s pale hand rested beside her darker one on the grass, and it occurred to Gereth she didn’t really remember the last time she held another’s hand in comfort. Or something else.

“Evranin, where are we going?” She asked quietly, wishing she could grasp her hand, just to feel what it would be like.

Evranin kept her eyes on the stars.

“Hopefully somewhere safer than here.”

“Do you have a plan, though? Or are we just trying to get as far away as possible?” She knew, she could understand why Evranin might not want to tell her. She really did. But hadn’t she earned a small bit of trust at this point?

The same question seemed to occupy Evranin’s mind when she stared Gereth in the eyes, undecided. _What will you do if I tell you_ , they asked, and _what will you do if I don’t_?

“Others must have survived. I saw them, I heard them when I went to get El - Lassiel. If we keep moving, we shall find them at some point.”

“You’re not actually her mother, are you?” Gereth asked in a low voice. They didn’t look alike. The girl’s hair was dark and straight, her nose small and delicate. Evranin had grayish brown curls and prominent cheekbones. Lassiel’s skin was slightly darker than her guardian’s, too, in daylight.

“I might as well be. She’s got no one else.”

“We were told.” She paused, wondering if she would dare speak. “Some said Dior had more than just two sons.”

Evranin didn’t stop brushing the girl’s hair calmly, neither did she look away from Gereth’s eyes. There was a strange emotion in her features, some mixture of fear and challenge, of pride and vulnerability. The fire reflected in her eyes and Gereth felt like she might burn.

“And what will you do about it?” Evranin whispered, coming closer, almost touching. Gereth could feel the heat emanating from the other’s body.

“Nothing.” She tried to convey in that word all the truth of her heart. “They can keep their Silmaril, but I won’t let them have her. Evranin, I swear to you I’ll never put any of you in danger.”

Evranin shivered, bringing her hands to her own face. “Don’t make oath’s you might not want to fulfill later on.”

She took Evranin’s hands delicately on her own and kissed both knuckles, one after the other. “I already have.”

Softly, so softly she almost wasn’t sure it was what it was, Evranin kissed her on the lips.

 

* * *

 

 

  
They walked consistently southwards for several days. Gereth, who had never been west of Himlad in her life, knew enough of geography to guess Evranin intended to reach the Aros. They had come across several small streams and pools; they had even dared to stop and take a swim once it became clear they were not being followed. Gereth’s knee healed in a matter of days, and even her arm was recovering faster than she had expected.

Elwing spoke to her for the first time the day after she and Evranin had kissed in front of the fire. Gereth had managed to capture a hare, and Evranin had gone out to pick some dry wood why she cleaned their meal. The little girl came to kneel next to her, watching the work of her hands with interest and curiosity. After a small hesitance, Gereth asked her if she wanted to give it a try herself. Elwing shook her head mutely.

Gereth worked in silence for a while, until a tiny voice asked with no preamble: “Do you love Evranin?” Her knife almost slipped in shock.

Later on, when she told Evranin about it in hushed tones, all she had asked was “Did you ask a three-year-old child if she wanted to skin a rabbit?”

Gereth had expected them to escape to Ossiriand, where Dior had been born and raised, where perhaps Elwing still had kin. But when they reached the river Evranin guided them west. Gereth didn’t ask again where they were going. She chose to trust Evranin’s judgment. She chose not to fear the future too much.

When they weren’t walking or looking for food, they sat together under the trees or near the river. The Aros was far too violent for them to really swim in it, but Elwing enjoyed getting her feet wet, and in the heat of summer, they couldn’t deny the appeal themselves. They would walk on the edge barefooted, enjoying the feel of the cold water and the muddy soil underneath.

On one of such days, they were watching Elwing wander around the berry bushes, and Gereth was trying to braid Evranin’s hair in a fashion her mother had shown her centuries before, her hand occasionally brushing the other’s neck and making her laugh. The sound of her laughter was one of the sweetest things she had ever listened too. She would be willing to do most anything to keep hearing it.

After a while, though, Evranin became very silent. Her knees were pulled to her chest as she sat quietly, her eyes following Elwing as she hopped from place to place. Gereth, who was kneeling behind her, leaned over to see her face and was surprised by the concern in the other’s eyes.

“What is it?” She asked softly, pulling Evranin closer and wrapping her arms around her. She went pliantly, but still seemed worried.

“They don’t have it.”

Gereth didn’t understand. “Who doesn’t have what?”

“You said ‘let them keep the Silmaril’. They don’t have it.” Her voice was very leveled, but she shook a little in Gereth’s arms.

“Is it with you?” Gereth asked, thinking fast. _A Silmaril_. Her lords would do anything for it, give anything for it. If they had it, them they would be so much closer to fulfilling their oath and freeing their people. There would be no more war on other elves. So many things would be better if they could recover that Silmaril! It might even give them the strength to get the other two.

“Not with me.” Evranin shook her head. “With Elwing.”

Gereth followed her eyes to where the girl was, her lips and fingers blue tinged blue with the juice of the berries she was picking. She was so small. So fragile. Gereth remembered how Evranin had held her sword, uncertainly, at the clearing. It wasn’t safe. She couldn’t leave them. She didn’t want to.

Evranin was still shivering against her chest. she tightened her arms around her, resting her head on her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”

She could feel as Evranin exhaled and relaxed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie to you. I was afraid you might...”

“Hush. It’s okay.” Gereth moved so they were face to face, and she pressed a soft kiss to Evranin’s forehead. “We’ll be okay. We’ll find other survivors, soon, or we can go looking for Lord Cirdan on the Fallas. It’ll be okay. We’ll be together.”

“Cirdan has lost the Fallas. He sent a letter.”

“We’ll figure something out.” Gereth wasn’t sure of what to do. Up until then, Evranin had shown no doubts. “I’ll help with Elwing. We’ll find a way.”

Evranin closed her eyes. Not far away, Elwing was chasing white butterflies. She tripped over a root and came to her feet almost immediately, laughing. Gereth brushed Evranin’s hair away from her ear and whispered softly into it “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

* * *

 

Later that night, as the three of them curled together under the stars, Gereth thought it was hardly a choice at all. Evranin’s face lit by moonlight, her small hand holding her own as Elwing slept between them, was all she could ever have wanted.


End file.
